I want to write. I’m good at it. It comes naturally.
Yet, when push comes to shove, I don’t want to write. I don’t seem to have the energy. Work takes up so much, and events take up so much, and you know, just life takes up so much. (And, you know, you gotta figure in the Facebook factor. I'm on there like twice a day - once early in the morning if I have time, and once late at night. ) What the hell’s up with that? Yet I feel so much better when I write. Maybe I’ll force it, just for today.
My life is good. My man is good. We have faith in God. We have our health. We’re both losing weight. We have very few bills. We both have work. Our kids are okay and one may be actually seriously finding his way, hallelujah! They’re both healthy, happy, and vibrant. They’re both seriously talented. And they’re both funnier than anyone I’ve seen in a long time.
Our dogs are hilarious. Time-consuming. Costly. I’ve not taken them hunting since the emergency appendectomy in February, and I’m mad at myself for that.
ThatManILove is busy again, which he loves. The only bad thing about it is that the work is out of town. He leaves around 4 a.m. on Monday and gets home late Friday or Saturday. Work is good. We usually do well, together or apart, because we talk on the phone daily, and you know, life is what it is. However, time apart isn’t necessarily good for us at this exact right now minute, because we have things to do and decisions to make.
Our house is still in disarray from the last flood a month ago. And all the things we decide together concerning our house, well, those decisions are probably going to fall to me. We’ve decided that while everything’s torn up that the time is now to install the french doors going out to the courtyard. The courtyard, that for now, anyway, is back to pure dirt since we had to tear it out again to get to the offensive damaged sprinkler pipe that flooded our house.
So, if one thing truly leads to another, we have to wait on (1) specially ordered french doors and (2) a new front door and back door and (3) the contractor who’s going to do the work and (4) the adjustment on the ruined rugs and (5) the french door install before we can (6) paint. (And ThatManILove wants to be here when all of this goes down. Hmmm. That translates to: isn’t going to happen anytime soon, Cowgirl.)
And I don’t even have a clue when the (7) granite that we ordered before the flood will be installed and even if (8) we can raise the cabinets a little bit like I want done and what about (9) the specially made cabinet door that cracked due to the dehumidification of the house that had to happen to dry out the damaged walls from the flood? Much less what are we going to utilize for (10) backsplash, and who’s going to put that in?
The yard, both front and back, and all the cool flowers Susan and Monica have planted, looks beautiful and gives me tons of peace. Even if the (11) pergola isn’t finished, it’s beautiful at whatever stage. Even in the recent rain, you could find me sitting out there, just breathing in the air and enjoying the scenery. Oh, yeah, baby, it’s gorgeous.
At this point, I could care less about (99) remodeling our bedroom, which was JOB ONE a couple of months ago.
Did I tell you we have to have a new (12) roof, as well? Oh, yes, we do. Frikkedy frakkidy hail storms...
I might take up the habit of alcohol.
Instead, I think I’ll take the Wonderdogs to the Dog Park. Hope it’s not too muddy...but if it is, we'll deal.